


Vs. The Handa League

by TheCelest



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe, Headcanon, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Original Character(s), Pokemon, Pokemon Battles, i rarely use ao3 sorry, idk anymore tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCelest/pseuds/TheCelest
Summary: A Unovan boy, along with his tag-team crew of random, assorted pokémon challenge the Handa League. Watch as this dumb, chaos gremlin try to fight against the region's best on this episode of 'Please Join This Pokémon ARPG, It's So Cool'.[A One-Shot [I think]]
Relationships: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon/Original Pokemon Trainer(s)
Kudos: 1





	Vs. The Handa League

**Author's Note:**

> This is an author's note, you don't have to read it, but if you, I really appreciate it.  
> I probably won't be updating this story and leave it as a one chapter kinda ordeal, but I might add some chapters here and there if I feel like it. This story was just a random thing I pulled out of my head about this character I made for an ARPG on Toyhou.se. (You can check it out here, https://toyhou.se/~world/54506.pokemon-rainbow-quartz, if you're interested!) I really, really love the world of Pokémon, like, its themes and world-building are pretty cool if you just push aside the wonky logic here and there. So I'll try to do my best trying to convey that here!
> 
> Anyways, three things:  
> a. I'm not a writer, it's just a random side-hobby I have to keep me sane in between commissions.  
> b. This region is inspire by Hoseki, which PRQ (the arpg linked above) is based on.  
> c. You are valid and appreciated uwu
> 
> (p.s there's another note at the end, it'll just be some lil' details and factoids.)

He laid his head back onto the heavenly, plush cushioning. The tension pent up in his neck and shoulders slowly faded away, the magic was doing its work. The renowned ‘Center Sofa’, as local trainers have dubbed it, unbelievably soft, and always there for when you just need a little shot of pure bliss. Despite being torn up to hell and back, or whatever happens when a Muk decides to take some time lounging on it, trainers loved the darn thing. For some reason, the first word that comes to mind is ‘homey’. Dayton remembered the hours he spent waiting on it back when he first arrived in the region, shaking and filled to the brim with nervous energy. It had been hectic, and the paperwork felt never-ending, but it all worked out eventually. Mostly thanks to, again, the sofa. It's a piece of art, the darn thing.

Starlight streamed in through the glass panes above. The pokémon center lights were dimmed at this hour. Dayton counted at least five other trainers scattered about the center lobby, two sharing an air mattress and one other simply leaning back on some big, furry pokémon he couldn't recognize in an unlit corner. The center was quiet. Undoubtedly due to the matches taking place just about a short walk down in the stadium. You could still hear the cheering and the fanfare, thousands of people going wild for who knows what. Dayton could've easily checked the monitor displaying the tournament, conveniently set up right before his eyes. But his brain felt like jelly and for once no one else was sitting on the sofa idly waiting to make small talk. So he just sits there, feeling like a melting pile of goop. He reaches his hand out to his left and it lands on a delightful bed of coarse, uncombed fur. The Pokémon grunts softly in response but says nothing else. The two of them lay there. Exhausted, worn out, near-dead, but completely entranced by the soothing embrace of the Center Sofa. 

Right before he could fall asleep, a sudden pop of noise from the monitor spikes through the quiet, catching his attention. It seemed like the tournament had concluded. Dayton briefly considered the sheer amount of people packed into the stadium on display, all united in a chant, cheering on the victor. This was a qualifying match. Dayton couldn't imagine what the championships would look like, even photos of the stadium they were held in had had him speechless.

Portraits of the qualifiers streamed through the monitor, a dozen of young, eager-looking faces, a few older ones, and some familiar past League challengers. But of course, the star of the show, per se, was a goofy-looking photo of some teen with obvious bags under his eyes. The dyed hair, once pink and now a weird shade of gray, was a dead giveaway. Dayton was on TV. He couldn't bother lifting his hands to cover his reddening face and some guy whistled at him from the far side of the center. Grumbling, he sank further down his seat.

That's about enough about sofas. 

Rewind to about two hours ago. When it was stated, very bluntly and without spoken word, to the world: the League's got themselves a new hotshot.

-

It's theoretically over. 

Dayton had his head in his hands and he didn't look so far from fainting. There is a chance, a very, very big probability, that all the months prior spent planning, speculating, training, strategizing, praying and wishing could end up one big, big waste of time and effort and  _ he'll _ end up one, big, big waste of time and effort. It's clear the other participants have also realized what they're being put up against, their faces taut and fists clenched.

The brackets have been decided. If all goes according to calculation, and further assuming Dayton ends up winning all of the first matches, he's done for either way. To the very left, on the block second to the bottom bracket, blinking innocently in bright neon is a name. A very familiar name. Haston Hughes. 

Pretty unassuming at first, until you hear the Unovans in the room start to gossip. Hushed whispers turned into worried murmurs turned into panicked chatter.

"-those things are impossible..."

"I'm getting worried, are you one hundred percent sure?"

"Oh, shit, I didn't plan for this."

Dayton pulled himself together. It's not too bad. Maybe. He's got a ton of countermeasures for all sorts of strategies. He had plenty of tricks stuffed up his sleeves. Literally.

He proceeded to unravel the scroll of notes he had pressed up against his wrist. Reading over it, again and again, had given him at least a sliver of insurance. Even hope. He had a little ace up his sleeve, this time not quite literally. The only problem? He hadn't expected to actually put his plan into action, and well-

"The second match will begin. To the stations, Matthew Harrison from Kalos versus Johann Taylor from Unova!" The announcement ended and immediately the doors busted open, the two trainers from the first round strode into the waiting room and one of them had a wide smirk plastered on her face. The other sulked through to the exit, a battered-looking croconaw trailing behind. The door slammed shut behind him. He wouldn't be seeing this room for another year.

Dayton stood up together with who was presumably Matthew. He certainly had that signature Kalos prim and glamour, his eyes blazing with sure confidence. He nods at Dayton and they leave for the match.

Walking through the doors, seeing the stadium firsthand, it was about to short-circuit his nerves.

The whole place was built in the shape of a circle, the arena flattened out with firm soil and emblazoned with the universal symbol of pokémon battles, the pokéball. The arena had lines drawn onto the ground, one big one to split the fighting grounds in two. They were mostly there for regulation purposes than actual adherence to old court rules, but on the farthest ends of both sides was a small 'booth'. Shielded behind unbreakable glass and nearly hidden beneath the canopy: the stations. On the humongous monitor above, which was suspiciously akin to the ones they have in Galar stadiums, he could see Unova and Kalos' flags flying together, albeit digitally. Right beside them, in all its glory, was his face.

Here he was thinking about courts and monitors. Perhaps it was more of a coping mechanism than anything. While they were still close together, Dayton glanced over to Matthew eating up all the attention, and who could blame him? Dayton couldn't get an exact read on him. Brown hair, puffy jacket, only three pokéballs by his side instead of the maximum six. There was nothing to hint him into his opponent's gameplan, but on the other hand, nothing to indicate he'd be a big threat either. What with the extremely ballsy decision of bringing only three battlers against Dayton's six. (To be fair, only two of them were properly trained for a real battle.)

The two finally parted ways, one sprinting into the left-field and the other right. Once they were safely tucked behind barriers, Dayton got to work. He set down the six pokéballs on the small ledge before him, buzzing with excitement. He could almost hear a choir of heartbeats emanating from within them, but that was impossible. No time to have hallucinations now, it's time for battle.

The signature sound of a pokémon released from its container, not unlike the satisfying hiss of a newly-opened can of soda. Darn, he was suddenly thirsty. Shouts erupted from the crowds and Dayton turned around to see what Matthew had chosen as his lead. 

Nothing unexpected. It was a magmar, a flashy Fire-type, kind of on-brand for what he'd seen so far from Matthew, he supposed. Dayton didn't want to waste any more time picking and choosing, lest he looked unprepared to his opponent. He grabbed a pokéball, used his thumb to release the lock, and tossed as hard as he could. When you decide to pick a lead early, you've just lost an advantage. It's no rocket science, paper beats rock, and water beats fire.

The light enveloping the beast shuttered away, first revealing a shimmering coat of white fur. Then, onyx claws. And finally, a mean-looking horn, sharpened like a knife and rows of white fangs gleaming right by it. The absol shook his head once, twice, the let out its blood-curdling cry, an omen of impending disaster for generations past. This time, Dayton knows to use that chaos to his advantage.

The magmar looked undeterred. It honked defiantly and stood its ground. Blanc was obviously slighted by this. He snarled, lowering his head down. His haunches were raised, looking to all the world like he was about to pounce. Of course, there was still a considerable distance between the two, and Blanc won't be breaking his stance until the other does.

Dayton considered the magmar. It wasn't moving, just watching.

Then in a burst of movement, the Fire-type charged, closing the distance. Blanc was patient. It wasn't until the very last second that he leaped out of the way and clamped down his jaw on the other's tail.

"Blanc!" Dayton cried out a little too late. Blanc recoiled as his snout caught flame. The absol dug his muzzle down into the earth, putting out the fires, and retreated a little further as the magmar prepared to charge again. Dayton let himself breathe out. He couldn't be sloppy. This should be an easy win if he was just  _ careful _ .

This time, Blanc had heard Dayton's command loud and clear. Still a little dazed, he settled into place. The magmar charged again, its flaming tail waving like a metronome behind it.

Blanc didn't wait long. With a roar, he reared up. Standing on his hind legs, Blanc could've easily been twice the magmar's height. Just as the Fire-type lunged, Blanc brought his entire weight down onto the earth. Waves of cold, blue water pulsed through the arena, knocking the magmar off its balance. The Fire-type quickly got back to its feet, but something wasn't so right. Dayton looked on hopefully. And wouldn't you know it, luck had struck.

The magmar stumbled in place. Even from afar, anyone could see its eyes were unfocused. The blast of water had shaken the thing out of its mind and now Blanc, watching it from afar, was leering at it eagerly. The magmar glared right back, though its gaze was losing its focus.

Blanc charged at once, recognizing the opportunity. His horn, ironically, shone with a dark aura. The magmar held up its claws to defend itself, but the absol headbutted the pokémon with full strength, forcing the already confused magmar to stumble. The magmar attempted to wrestle the pokémon off of him, clawing its back and whipping its tail back and forth. But Blanc had his claws latched onto it, and it sure doesn't seem like he'd let go so easily.

Out of options, the magmar dropped down and rolled over, pressing down the absol with its huge build. Big mistake. Blanc growled from beneath the other, shooting the magmar one last look of arrogance. The magmar couldn't have had even a split second to react before he was shot through the air by a blast of water. It landed with a loud thump on the far side of the field, its eyes fluttering open and shut before finally passing out.

Dayton lifted his eyes to observe his opponent's reaction, all the way over the other side of the arena. Matthew's smirk was still loaded with fiery determination. Two more rounds to go.

-

"The victor of this match is Johann Taylor with his outstanding absol, Blanc!"

The sweet sound of victory was slightly soured by the sound of his name spoken aloud. Eugh, maybe he ought to change his name in the papers. Despite that brief onomastic issue, Dayton's thoughts were still swirling in a sea of emotion. Euphoria over his first official win, sure, but also genuine fear over what's to come. There were countless little mistakes he had made in the match, countless little ways it all could've come crashing down. Nevertheless, he had made it through the first match. Nowhere else to go but to march on forward.

Dayton walked out of the station, stepping into the blinding lights and sounds. Walking to the middle of the arena was surreal. All around him were the cheers of people, all of whom he hadn't even met before. And yet, there they were, ecstatic over  _ his  _ win. He met Matthew in the center of the arena, below the white glare of the spotlights. Matthew, ever the gracious trainer, shot his hand out. It was trembling and his eyes were unmistakably disappointed, but Dayton could see a hint of his fighting spirit still burning somewhere in there. 

"Your first win, glad I could be it." He grins, and Dayton takes his hand and shook it. That did it. The reality and weight of it all finally hit him. He'd won. Dayton could feel the waterworks coming but held it in, "You put up a good fight for someone who brought three pokémon to his qualifying match." Matthew lets go of his hand and his smirk grew wider, "That was a stylistic choice."

-

Dayton, a little distracted from his winning high, had failed to realize how close he was to facing Haston Hughes. The waiting room was a cycle of two trainers leaving and then returning. One always ecstatic, the other devastated. Dayton, so far, had been returning as the former, and he was starting to forget just who he'll be facing in his final match.

The hours streaked by like seconds. The number of people in the room had trickled down to only ten, then five, then four, and then one.

Eventually, there were only two blocks left on the brackets.

At last, the dread set in. Blanc, who had been resting by his side was getting antsy, watching the last match before his. Haston Hughes wasn't in the waiting room like the others. Instead, he was somewhere up there in the bleachers, only coming down to the arena when it was his turn. Dayton had watched him on the monitor in the waiting room, with that silly hat and an oversized pair of sunglasses, you wouldn't think he'd be a force to be reckoned with. Yet, Haston had become a legend back in Unova. He was the guy that obliterated Brycen's team with one Dragon-type. He blew through the Gym challenges and for a while, Unova's League had become a sort of laughing stock for the rest of the world to tune in and watch get annihilated. In truth, Haston was a beast. He and his dragons were unstoppable. It wasn't until the E4's Marshal returned the favor when Haston had officially been eliminated from the year's list of League challengers. But he was back. He's going to try his hand in this brand new League, and Dayton was going to have to look that hellish druddigon of his in the eye and pray for victory.

"The final round," Oh, no.

"The match you've all been waiting for!" Ah, well.

"To the stations, Unova's Haston Hughes versus Johann Taylor!"

-

The booth felt extremely hot all of a sudden. The concrete walls felt like they were contracting, like an ekans choking out its prey. Dayton stared at his pokémon blankly. Only two reasonable options remained. 

Blanc was curled up, lying on his side on the floor, whining in pain and exhaustion. Dayton hadn't expected him to stand up against the dragon alone, but Blanc was wiped out so swiftly that he was skeptical whether the other five could do any better. He had only one pokémon left prepared for battle. There wasn't much of a choice. Dayton felt like the sacrificial lamb, an easy win for Hughes to get back into the League game. Hughes had declared to win this match with only his druddigon just moments ago, just as he had done with Brycen. Matthew used three pokémon for flair, but Hughes had done it out of sheer confidence. And this time around, Dayton has a reason to worry. 

Nowhere to go but forward.

A flash burst out of Dayton's station, swept away by a single stroke of the pokémon within's broad wings. The pidgeot let out a shrill cry and the dragon retaliated, bellowing and pounding its fists into the ground. The pidgeot hovered in the air, unintimidated. The only sounds left, the flapping of his wings and the shouting from the crowds.

The two pokémon didn't bother considering one another any further. Havoc swooped down and the druddigon practically galloped. The two met in the very center of the arena in a clash of feather and scale. All you could see for a while were tufts of down flying and a blur of red and blue. Then, at last, they broke apart, Havoc retreating into the skies.

Circling above, Havoc was awaiting Dayton's command whilst the dragon watches him from below, its eyes wary yet furious.

Then Havoc dove down. The druddigon raised one of its arms to try and strike the pidgeot, but Havoc rolled sideways, wings outstretched. With all his momentum, even the huge dragon should've surely toppled over, but it appeared as if Dayton had miscalculated just how powerful the dragon was. Havoc's wings sliced through the air. As soon as it made contact with the other's scales, Havoc's momentum was halted in a flash and he tumbled through the air uncontrollably. The druddigon charged with unexpected speed, hitting the pidgeot mid-air and smacking him down into the ground.

Dayton was about to pass out himself. But there was not much time to weigh options. Havoc rolled out of the way before the dragon could crush him beneath its armored fists. The Flying-type could hear Dayton's instructions clear as day, he just wasn't so sure he'd end up surviving at all if he'd listened. But whatever, he realized, the human brain was much larger than his, and frankly, the bird was about to ready to hit the sack and sleep for days on end. And if beating this dumb, scaly beast to a pulp meant he could get to do so faster, then by the gods, he'd make sure he takes the most optimal route.

The pidgeot flapped his wings, stirring up the dust. The druddigon spares a moment watching him, then lunges, trying to put a stop to whatever it is the pidgeot was doing. With a quick swoop, Havoc swept debris into its eyes. The pidgeot shot into the skies, encircling and taunting the dragon from above. Havoc halted. He spread his wings open, and it was then when the dragon was reminded of the power a pidgeot holds in its wings. The pidgeot took only a second to let the crowds admire his plumage before Dayton's voice snapped him back to reality. His wings slammed into one another and a gust of wind, or rather, an explosion of jet speed air swirled onto the arena. The winds spiraled into the shape of a vortex. Hughes didn't look too good behind the glass. 

The druddigon locked its eyes at the bird. As if the growing pull of the tornado didn't exist, the dragon runs at Havoc. The pidgeot dove down to meet it. Once again, talon met claw. The two were locked in a vicious battle when the hurricane drew near. The winds tugged at the dragon but it resisted its clutches, opting instead to try and ground the pidgeot once again. Havoc shot out his talons and held tight. With a mighty flap of his wings, he pulled the two of them into the swirling hurricane.

No one could see the two from within the vortex, only the echoing cries of the pidgeot and the roars of the dragon. 

The roars stopped.

It was silent excepting the whistle of the cyclone, still twirling and dancing in place. Dayton thought he had won. Until a beam of searing light erupted out of the tornado. As suddenly as it had started, the winds dispersed. Left behind, a dragon. Standing tall and proud, banging its chest in victory, was Haston's druddigon. And by his feet, Havoc's limp form, his wings sprawled out on the ground.

Dayton slammed his hands onto the ledge in the station. He let Havoc return to his pokéball as he watched Haston in the other station, smirking. The damned dragon was making a show of itself. Thudding its tail and swaying its huge head around in triumph. The crowds were cheering on the dragon and Haston looked to grow prouder by the minute.

Looking at it now, its scales covered in pathetic, minuscule dents and scratches, it was like its battle with Havoc hadn't happened. But Dayton knew better.

Hughes was smart. He was acting like the winner. Like he'd already won. But druddigon don't act like his was. They don't sway their heads. They don't bang their chests as darmanitan do. Those were reserved for rare instances. Instances when they felt threatened.

Dayton was gonna give it one last shot. If he was going down now, at least he'll give the audience one hell of a light show. 

No one had expected the sound of a pokémon being released from its pokéball. But there on the field, opposite the druddigon was a pokémon. Standing four feet tall and wagging its stubby tail, a little ribbon tied around her neck. Haston looked on in disbelief. And then in amusement. It must be a mistake. 

The amaura let out a little squeal and the man let out a genuine guffaw. The audience, on the other hand, looked on in anticipation. Haston Hughes hadn't caught on yet. This wasn't Unova. Bigger doesn't mean  _ better _ .

The druddigon took a look at the small pokémon, more curious than anything. Of course, the amaura was foreign to it. A relic from millions and millions of years ago. But small-sized pokémon had always been weak, little things, why would this be any different? Thinking nothing of it, the druddigon took a step towards her. 

Then Yule ran. She darted between its legs and then up its tail, then up, up, up on top of its back. The little Ice-type was tip-toeing around the spiky bits whilst trying to keep its balance as the dragon tried to shake it off, a vain effort.

The amaura's neck shone with light before it escaped its maw in a concentrated beam of prismatic light. The druddigon, with what felt like a hole burning on its back, panicked. Its claws picked the amaura off its back and hurled it away. Yule, still looking as enthusiastic as ever, stuck her landing perfectly. She was the world's tiniest ice-skater performing her own special, little dance. The dragon was just the prop. 

She watched the dragon turn in circles. The druddigon was losing it. She charged up another shot, and the druddigon snaps out of its maddened state. The beam of light hit it head-on, yet the druddigon doesn't stumble. Well-prepared, it opened its maw, its heavy head raised into the air. Yule runs before she gets herself fried to a crisp. 

The dragon shoots out a beam of intense light from its jaws and it surfs through empty air. It takes a second to realize Yule was hiding right behind its thick tail, looking up with eyes shining with glee. 

The dragon opens its maw again to charge up another blast but it finds itself struggling to even keep its balance. 

Yule winks. She mimics the dragon's movements and what comes out is a blast of freezing wind. Frost forms on its arms as the druddigon shields its face from the subzero temperatures. Yule pauses, and the stadium walls came to life with stunning, blue lights. The druddigon watches in stunned dread, its arms hanging limply by its sides and its eyes murky. Yule was enveloped in blue light, sparks of brilliant light hissing around her. The druddigon pulled in its last burst of energy to lunge at the amaura, and in a flash, white shards washed over its scales.

Yule's snout was dusted in white, powdery snow. And before her was the frozen form of Hughes' dragon, encapsulated by a thick layer of solid ice. Frozen.

Dayton, and everyone else, watched the monitor. Big, yellow numbers counted down on the screen.

3.

2.

1.

"The victor of this match- unbelievable! The victor of this match is our new challenger, Johann Taylor!"

And that was when Dayton promptly fainted.

-

After a quick check-up and a hasty dinner, Dayton  _ flew _ to the pokémon center. When he burst through the door, several trainers were applauding his victory in the lobby. Dayton could only chat for so long before his composure completely shattered, looking like he'd just finished trekking up and down Mt. Coronet. 

So here we are now. At last, retreating to a mellow land of dreams and slumber.

And then the center doors exploded.

An unruly charizard swooped into the center, bursting the quiet atmosphere and provoking the other pokémon in the center. The bird pokémon perched on the ledges near the ceiling began squawking and cawing. Havoc, who had been roosting there, shrieked at the charizard in irritation. He and a staraptor flew down to pick a fight with it, in spite of Dayton's warnings.

The pokémon fought. Nipping, pecking, and tearing at one another. The trainers in the lobby had grumpily moved outside, one girl even ran off to find the staraptor's owner, but it was taking her a good while to come back.

Havoc eventually emerges out of the center, having been exhausted of his last reserves of energy. Dayton was sitting by a plot of bushes with Blanc, just as sleepy, lying beside him. The charizard better be gone in an hour or the two of them will have to end up sleeping out here on the road.

Well, Dayton didn't mind sleeping outdoors, honestly. He'd camped out often in the woods since he left Unova. But the concrete was killer on his back. Besides, he'd way rather spend the night on- on...

Oh, lord, the sofa.

Dayton could've wept in dismay. The sofa was alight with crimson red fire. The charizard had its talons digging into the fabric, its head pointed upwards to snarl at the staraptor leering at it from above, unaware of the emotional disdain it was causing him.

The property damage and the ruckus, and now, the loss of the sofa. This night will wound many. 

Dayton watched on in grim silence, his metaphorical hat clutched over his heart. This better not be an omen.

He sighs and takes a look at the other trainers, expecting sorrow-filled faces. Instead, they were all looking skyward, pointing up into the skies.

Dayton looked. And lo and behold, streaks of azure lights snaked across the sky. It was a spectacular sight. The skies were painted in an amalgamation of color. It looked a little familiar. And then it dawned on him. Ah, Yule.

Blanc howled, no doubt the absol had seen Northern lights before. His home in the alps has the most beautiful skies, studded with stars and filled with comets, trailing lines of fire as they zipped across their canvas.

Dayton patted his head. It was nice to see that the absol no longer runs away from little pets and scratches. It was a little milestone, for sure. Dayton looked on, the contrast of the pretty lights in the sky and the fire breaking out in the center (which will probably cost a fortune), it was amusing. Alright, Handa, let's see what else you've got in store.

**Author's Note:**

> \- I actually did use Showdown to try and simulate the battles above. Using the right builds and lots, and lots of luck, you could use a pidgeot and an amaura to beat a lvl. 80 druddigon.
> 
> \- "It's said that when Amaura whinnies, auroras appear in the night sky." - Amaura, US Pokédex.
> 
> \- Also I like to think that mentions of actual animals are just their scientific names lol.


End file.
